


Going into Extra Time

by VampireNaomi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/pseuds/VampireNaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out as a stroll in the city, turned into a match of football and then became something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going into Extra Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Miq in the Prumano Secret Santa event.

Romano hated exercise. It made him tired and thirsty, both of which were near the top of his list of states of being he couldn't stand. Even when he was working in the fields with his fingers deep in soil, he loathed the feeling of sweat running down his back and making his shirt cling to his skin. There was nothing he would have rather done on a hot, sunny day in August than covered his face with a hat and spent hours lying in a hammock on his porch, preferably with his boyfriend bringing him a glass of wine whenever he snapped his fingers.

But no, said boyfriend had entirely different plans, and for once Romano was more than willing to go along with them. Just today, he would make an exception to his no-exercise-unless-you-fucking-feed-me-for-a-month rule and strain himself voluntarily – but it was partly because he didn't want to eat Prussia's cooking for four weeks.

It had all started normally. He was visiting Prussia in Berlin even though he always disliked doing that because he hated staying in the same house with Germany. It was so much more comfortable in his apartment in Rome or the house he had in the countryside, but Prussia kept insisting that they had to stay in Germany every now and then. Romano always grumbled but never said no because he knew Prussia's ego needed the chance to show him around the city that had once been his capital.

They had been on a stroll, and when they had spotted a park, Prussia had decided to drag Romano there and buy him an ice cream. On the way, they had passed a group of people playing football in a grassy field. Romano had snorted in amusement when a young man's attempt at goaling had failed and had let a comment about Germans and football slip past his lips – a mistake that had ensured that there would be no ice cream and no peace for the rest of the day.

Prussia hadn't taken the remark in stride but had immediately kicked up a fuss about how Germans were the masters of football and that if Romano didn't believe it, he would prove it. Romano had added a few boasts of his own until Prussia had suggested that they'd settle the score with a match. He would gather the first willing people to be his team while Romano would pick up enough Italians at any of the popular tourist attractions in Berlin.

And here they were, ready to play and determine once and for all which country ruled in football – or at least for that particular day because Romano knew they'd be fighting about it the moment anyone brought the sport up again. The only time they agreed on anything regarding it was when they were feeling smug about how they were both so much better than England.

“I'd tell you to be ready for battle, but it's Germans we're up against, so I don't think it's necessary. There's no way we're going to lose,” he said to the four people he had dragged away from the line at the Reichstag. They were called Flavio, Mario, Giulia and Alfredo. He hadn't told them who he was, but they had been naturally drawn to him, except for Alfredo who came from Milan but had agreed after some persuasion.

He cast a look on the other side of the field where Prussia was giving a prep talk to his four players. From the distance, it looked more like a military briefing. Each player – two men and two women – stood straight as arrows as Prussia marched back and forth before them, shouting orders that would have normally made Romano shake his head. But this was football, so he could understand Prussia's passion.

Nevertheless, he had to raise his brows when he realised that Prussia was wearing the uniform of the German national team. Romano had simply settled with finding something blue for everyone in his team, and even that had made him feel a little silly.

“Hah, you think it will make your sucky record look a little better if you're pretending that this is official?” he asked once everyone had gathered on the grassy area they were using as their makeshift field. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but even if the universe is turned upside down long enough for you to miraculously win, it doesn't count anywhere.”

Prussia placed his hands on his hips and flashed him a confident grin. “Doesn't matter. I just like wearing this. Look, the colours are from my flag!”

True enough, and Romano had to admit that Prussia looked more vigorous than usual in the black and white getup. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind earlier, but damn, he was attractive when he was all excited like that. It was almost a shame that he would have to lose while carrying his colours, but Romano figured he could always make it up to him later.

But no, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted that way. Good thing everyone else in Prussia's team was incredibly German – and the women looked scarier than the men – so he was sure playing the game would be like getting an endless number of buckets of cold water thrown at him.

“So, are we going to follow all rules or what?” he asked.

“Nah, that's not necessary. And we don't have a referee. Let's just agree that we won't touch the ball with our hands and that we'll stop playing if the ball leaves the field.”

“And no fighting!”

“But that's what I was looking forward to!”

“Then take up boxing or switch to America's excuse of a ball game!”

“Hell, no. Maybe I'll just accidentally tackle you to the ground when you aren't looking.”

“Do that and you won't be tackling me anywhere for a decade.”

Prussia laughed, and Romano wanted nothing more than to see him get hit to the face with the football. But he would settle for wiping that smirk off his features by serving him a crushing defeat, he decided. No need to be unreasonable.

“Enough talking! Let's get this battle started. I can't wait to win and show you that nobody insults German football!”

Romano rolled his eyes and made an impatient sound at the back of his throat. They all took their places on the field, two as forwards, two as defenders and one as a goalkeeper. As much as Romano would have loved to score a goal and rub it in Prussia's face, he knew he was better at defence. He stayed back with Alfredo while Giulia and Flavio took the offending positions.

He wasn't surprised to see that Prussia had placed himself as one of his team's forwards. Hell, what _would_ surprise him was if he actually let anyone else touch the ball.

“Why are we doing this again?” Alfredo asked as everyone was getting ready for a kick-off.

“To defend our honour and kick some German ass, that's why.”

“Yeah, but... This is so random. I don't know why I'm here. All I wanted to do today was to see the Reichstag. I don't even know who you are.”

“Which is more important to you, going to see that ugly piece of junk that is an insult to the Renaissance style when you can see true masterpieces at home, or showing that over-confident dumbass over there which country is better at football?”

Alfredo would have probably said more, but Giulia kicked the ball, and the game was on. Romano watched the proceedings carefully, trying to read every player to get an idea of what they were like. He knew Prussia was good at offence and, based on his personality, probably didn't even like any other positions. If he was treating the game like a battle, he would probably try to apply some strategies that might prove devastating if they weren't prepared for them. As for the others, everyone in both teams was clearly an amateur, but that was fine. It made it a bit more fair, and despite all the bickering, Romano wasn't looking for a professional match. Prussia had sulked for a week after Germany had lost to Italy in Euro 2012, and he didn't want a repeat of that.

He had little time for further musings because Prussia suddenly had the ball. He passed it to one of his team mates and ran ahead to be ready to receive it once he had a position closer to the Italians' goal. Unfortunately for him, Romano was fast – and playing football was pretty much the only occasion when he'd run towards a fight and not away from it – and cut between him and the ball just before he would have got it, passing it to Alfredo who was quick to send it to Giulia.

“You have to try harder than that,” he said to Prussia who wasn't looking as miffed as he had expected.

“That was just a test to see how good you are. You passed it. Barely.”

“Right. Says the bastard who cried like a little girl the last time we beat your ass.”

“But today it'll be you who's lying in the grass and bawling!”

With that, Prussia ran back to the game that was now being played around the middle of their makeshift field. Since they had so few players, their positions weren't fixed and everyone soon forgot whether they had been assigned to defence or offence. Romano tried to resist the temptation of joining the others near the Germans' goal because he knew how much it would sting if they lost just because everyone had left the goalkeeper alone, but it took all the self-control he had.

“This is going nowhere, dammit,” he muttered some fifteen minutes later when neither side had managed to score a goal. He didn't think their team mates would agree to spend the whole day playing, particularly the Italians who had limited time in Berlin, but they couldn't let the game end undecided. One side had to win or Prussia would just start the argument all over again the next day. He never knew when to stop.

There was very little progress made for the next few minutes. The ball kept being passed from one player to another, and both teams had countless chances at scoring a goal – the Germans more than the Italians, but Mario had turned out to be a better goalkeeper than Lovino had expected and didn't let the ball past him even once.

They had a break for ten minutes after they were through half of their agreed time. Romano lay in the grass, panting and trying to wipe the sweat off his forehead because he hated the feeling of it sliding down the sides of his face. His muscles were burning from all the running, which wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation.

“You're putting up more of a fight than I thought,” Prussia said as he claimed a spot right by his side.

Prussia had been running back and forth the field all through the match, and that showed. His normally pale faced was flushed, his hair messier than usual, and he had to keep wiping his nose because droplets of sweat liked to run down its length and dangle from the tip. But what truly caught Romano's attention was how brightly his eyes were shining, and he couldn't help but think back to what Prussia had told him when the Euro 2012 had been going on. Now that Europe was boring (by his standards), major football championships were the closest thing they had to war.

“Get ready to deal with defeat,” he said and poked at Prussia's shoulder with his finger. He hated war, and it was unsettling to think Prussia found enjoyment in it and that he associated a game that, in the end, was supposed to be fun with it. On the other hand, he looked so gorgeous and alive when he was that happy that Romano couldn't find it in himself to be mad at him. Let him have his fun, at least until he started bringing weapons to the football field.

“Nah, that'll be you,” Prussia challenged and returned the poke.

Romano didn't want to start a fight, so he ignored the taunt and sat up, scanning the field for his players. He didn't know whether to be surprised or irritated to notice that Mario was getting awfully close with one of the women in Prussia's team. He would never learn to understand why so many of his and his brother's people let themselves be enamoured by these bastards. But he supposed he had lost his right to complain about that the day he had stopped lying to himself and had been forced to admit that he liked Prussia, God help him.

“Let's continue before everyone will be too occupied with something else to play,” he grumbled and began to get up.

“Oh, yeah, because I'm just that irresistible. Hahaha! You want to call it quits and do something else?”

“And if you don't get your ass off the ground now, we'll continue without you!”

“No way! I'm the most important player in my team! I was just offering you a chance for a dignified retreat.”

The match continued, and the indifference Romano had developed about the end result disappeared the moment the ball suddenly ended up dashing right past Mario, earning the Germans their first goal. Romano stood, dumbfounded, and watched Prussia do a small victory dance on their side of the field.

If it had been any other sport, he might have been able to let it slide. But this was football. And he was the southern half of Italy. He couldn't lose to a Germanic nation. No fucking way.

“Don't think you're going to win, dammit,” he growled under his breath and wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. His throat and lungs were burning, but he didn't mind – the frustration he always felt when his side was losing was a much more pressing emotion.

“Yeah, we're going to beat those fuckers,” Alfredo agreed by his side, leaning against his knees and trying to catch his breath. “Man, what I wouldn't give to be able to knock that weird asshole's teeth in right now.”

“Hey, that's my goddamn boyfriend you're talking about!”

“Oh. So, why are you playing against him anyway? Why not be on the same team?”

“Because he said Italian football sucks!” Though truth to be told, Romano had started it with his comment. Not that it mattered in the long run. Few European nations could talk about football without insulting each other at some point, and everyone always took it so damn personally. Sometimes Romano secretly preferred Eurovision because at least everyone was able to laugh at themselves when it came to that.

It might be fun to play together with Prussia some time. Maybe they could arrange something just between nations some time when they were all gathered in the same place for a meeting. Heck, maybe they could replace the meeting with a match. They would accomplish just as much – nothing – and at least they'd have some outlet for all their pent-up frustration.

But he could think about that later. Now he had to focus on winning this match or at least evening the score or Prussia would mock him for the rest of his visit.

The match continued, and Romano did his best to stop the ball from getting anywhere near their goal. He tried to guess what kinds of moves Prussia and his team would use next, which wasn't all that difficult due to the small number of players. He was sure that if the teams had been the usual size, Prussia would have developed all kinds of crazy strategies, but now everyone was pretty much limited to passing the ball back and forth between the same people.

Romano let out a sigh of relief after he was able to snatch the ball from the woman who was on the offence with Prussia and send it to the other side of the field where Flavio took it. He resisted the urge to fall on his knees in exhaustion and focused on breathing in and out as much as his aching lungs allowed. The ball would probably be back on their side in no time and – 

Wait. Was Flavio passing the ball to Giulia who was facing the enemy goal in just the perfect angle? What if she – ? The moment only lasted for a second or two, but to Romano it felt like an eternity. He held his breath, ignoring the protests of his lungs, and watched how Giulia drew back her foot and _kicked_ so that Romano could barely see the ball before it made contact with the gloved hands of the German goalkeeper – but he didn't catch it; the ball slipped in his fingers and continued in a different angle, but it nevertheless made it through the agreed posts.

It was even! Fuck yeah!

“Yes!” Alfredo shouted by his side and caught him into a surprise embrace. Romano was feeling so triumphant that he returned it, but in all honestly he would have much rather been holding Prussia like this. Speaking of the devil, he was currently staring at their goal and the ball with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Romano pushed Alfredo away and marched to give Prussia a pat on the back.

“How's that?” he asked smugly. “And hey, don't look so shocked. It's a surprise you bastards were able to take the lead in the first place, and things are finally on the way to becoming normal again. Now we just have to win and we'll be there.”

“Yeah, right! This is just a minor setback, nothing more. We'll wipe the grass with your pasta lovers' faces in no time!”

“Get a move on then because you only have ten minutes left to try!”

Romano wiped a few wet strands of hair from his eyes and did his best to focus on the rest of the match. It was almost over, and he couldn't wait to take a shower, have something to drink and lie down somewhere comfortable, preferably with Prussia as his pillow.

He was brought back from his thoughts when Alfredo suddenly passed the ball to him. For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do because he hadn't been paying attention, but he snapped back to the game – _no way_ was he letting his team lose because he had been daydreaming about his boyfriend.

One glance at his watch told him that there was only about a minute of the match left. No need for him to stick to their side of the field anymore. He sent the ball back to Alfredo and ran to the Germans' side, finding a free spot where he was in a good position to catch the ball when Giulia passed it his way.

There wasn't a lot of time to think, both because the seconds were ticking away and because Prussia was going to steal the ball if he waited even one moment. So he sent it to Flavio right past Prussia who nearly slipped in his attempt to stop it.

The ball whooshed past the German goalkeeper so neatly that at first Romano was sure he had imagined it. It couldn't be that easy; there was at least supposed to be an epic struggle before the goal, but all it had taken was one kick from Flavio, and they had won.

They had won.

An overwhelming sense of thrill washed over him and forced a rare grin on his face just as Giulia and Flavio let out a shared shout of excitement and rushed to hug each other. Romano didn't care about them, though. His eyes were on Prussia whose expression was a mixture of shock, disbelief and anger.

“What the hell happened to our defence here, guys?” he demanded of his team mates who could only shrug.

“I don't know. Guess they were just better this time.”

“Bullshit! And that's a loser attitude! Back into formation and we can still win this!”

“No way,” Romano said and pointed at his watch. “After kick-off, you'd only have five seconds left. It's impossible.”

“It's not! I've won battles against worse odds before!”

Romano shook his head, but he knew better than to continue the argument. Prussia never admitted defeat when there was even the slightest chance he could win. It was one of the things that had originally made him attracted to him, but it was also one of his most infuriating traits. But fine, let him have his desperate five seconds of struggle doomed to fail if he wanted them so bad.

He didn't even bother to move when the ball was back in the game and just calmly looked at his watch as the seconds passed one after another. Nobody else did anything either, so Prussia was the only one who still cared about the match. He actually made it to the other side of the field and Romano even gave him an extra second before raising his hand and declaring the match ended.

Prussia gave the ball an angry kick that sent it far off the field. His curses could be heard to the other side where Romano was, and he decided to leave him alone for a moment. Losing at football always sucked, even when it was a silly match like this.

He thanked the others for playing, especially the Italians who had dedicated an afternoon of their holiday to it, and gave them directions to a restaurant where they could eat and drink as much as they wanted and put it on a certain Ludwig Beilschmidt's tab.

Romano went to retrieve the ball and figured that it might be safe to approach Prussia by now. He didn't even try to keep the smug grin off his face as he tossed the ball into Prussia's hands.

“Ha, I told you Italians are better! One would think that being proven wrong about this over and over again would get through to you eventually, but apparently not. But maybe this was finally the last lesson,” he said.

Prussia pouted and threw the ball back at him. “Go to hell.”

“I guess truth is a bitter medicine to drink,” Romano said with a roll of his eyes. “You look like a kid who just got told that Christmas got cancelled.”

Prussia snorted at him. “Hahaha, you think I'm sad? Get real! I love that you won because it means that when we kick your asses next time, it's going to feel twice as good after a defeat!”

“Idiot.” Romano shook his head, threw the ball away and closed the distance between them, grabbing the front of Prussia's shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Prussia tasted of salt, and his breath was hot against his lips as they broke apart almost immediately, both still a little out of breath after the match. Prussia let his hands travel down Romano's back and stopped right before they would have crossed the line of too much intimacy for a public place.

“Then again, if that's your way of cheering me up, I guess I'm a little sad after all,” Prussia said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Don't be,” Romano said. “I'm not going to watch you mope because of one stupid game.”

“So, now it's stupid? Just a moment ago you were taking it so seriously that I thought you'd pop a vein!”

“Says the one who's upset he lost!”

“I'm not! I'm just faking it so that you'll make me feel better!”

“Yeah? Who says I will? You're the one who should be doing favours for me! The winner gets to choose!”

It took almost all of Romano's self-control not to grind against the hands that were resting on his back. Getting together with Prussia had slowly taught him to hold back from giving into some of his impulses. Most of it was just that he kept some of his worst insults to himself now because Prussia's ego, despite what he wanted everyone to think, bruised easily. But another element was acting entirely indifferent to whatever Prussia was doing to get a reaction out of him – as much as he wanted to respond, it was so much more satisfying if he could at first make Prussia frustrated.

And he was going to make him frustrated. So very much. Right now, or at least when they found a place that wasn't quite so in the open.

“Get moving,” he said.

“Huh?”

Romano nodded towards a garden shed that stood by the end of the grassy field and gave him a shove.

“In there.”

“Oh, you think you can get bossy with me? I'm the greatest nation there ever was, and not even you get to tell me what to do just like that!”

“Your Greatness just had his ass served to him, so shut it and go!”

When Prussia showed no signs of following the order, Romano pressed himself against him again and forced him into another kiss, simultaneously pressing his knee on his crotch and earning a muffled yelp for his trouble. Before Prussia could react, Romano broke the kiss and started pulling him towards the shed by the front of his shirt.

“You aren't playing fair!” Prussia complained but was nevertheless following him.

“You're the one who always says that dirty tricks are allowed in war.”

“But this isn't war! This is love!”

“The same rules apply.”

“Yeah, but only if you're competing with some big ass for someone's affections. You aren't supposed to treat your amazing, awesomely hot boyfriend like this!”

“You're total ass as far as I'm concerned, so it's almost the same thing!”

They made it to the shed, and Romano reached for the handle to pull the door open. He shoved Prussia inside and slammed the door shut once more.

It was nearly dark inside, the only source of light being a small hole in the wall. They stumbled against a shelf as their feet got caught on something and landed on the floor, but thankfully nothing fell on them.

Prussia let out a hiss of pain and struggled to get up, but Romano was sitting on his thighs and prevented most movement. “Ow, my head! Are you trying to give me a concussion?”

“Be quiet or someone will find us!”

“If they've got an ice pack for the bump you just gave me, I don't care!”

“Let me see,” Romano said.

“How? It's completely –” Prussia's complaint was cut off by a yelp when Romano leaned over to feel the back of his head.

“I can't feel anything here. Stop being such a baby.”

“Yeah, make me.”

Romano removed his hand from Prussia's hair in response, sliding it down and following the familiar shape of his body until he reached his hips. He traced along the hip line of Prussia's football shorts to fool him into thinking he was being slow on purpose and then grabbed his crotch without a warning, making Prussia jerk in surprise.

“Haha, I knew you were needy today,” Prussia said with a chuckle.

“Not as much as you're going to be soon.”

Romano applied a little more pressure and ran his thumb over Prussia's member through the fabric. He knew that the other liked it rough, so he was willing to indulge him for a moment to get him properly excited, but after that they'd be playing by his rules. 

He leaned over and placed more of his weight on Prussia's body to stop him from arching into his touch and fumbled with his other hand to find his lips in the dark. Once he did, he captured them into a kiss and tried not to moan when Prussia's hands flew up to his hair to play with the damn curl that always turned his knees to jelly. 

“Stop that,” he snarled and straightened his back so that Prussia couldn't reach him anymore.

“Just trying to be fair and return the favour. By the way, your hand stopped down there.”

“I know.” 

“Then how about getting back to it? Or do I have to say please first?”

“I'll get to it when I feel like it.”

Romano drew his hand away from Prussia's already half-hard member and contemplated his next move. He wanted to keep him aroused but not give him too much satisfaction yet. The bastard had lost the football match, so he'd have to squirm and beg before he got anything out of him. Hearing the need in his voice would be Romano's reward.

He slipped his hand inside Prussia's shorts but avoided even brushing against his member. He massaged his hips with wide, strong movements, occasionally dipping down towards the growing erection but never touching it. He could feel the muscles in Prussia's thighs tense every time his fingers almost came into contact with the heated flesh, but that was the only reaction he was getting right now. Prussia must have guessed what he was trying to do and was lying as still as he could, his breathing perfectly even.

Sometimes it was so damn irritating to be dating someone who took a soldier's self-control and pride that seriously, but then again, it also meant it was so much more rewarding to finally get him to unravel. It was almost endearing how Prussia always had to have this battle no matter how many times Romano put him into this position.

He pushed aside the hem of Prussia's shirt and bent down to kiss the other's stomach. He used his tongue to draw long lines down Prussia's sides and nibbled at the skin where he knew it was the most sensitive. Then he finally allowed his fingers to reach the base of Prussia's member and travel further down to his scrotum, drawing an involuntary shiver from him.

“You know that I could just kick you off and turn the tables on you, right?” Prussia asked.

Romano snorted in response and tightened his grip between Prussia's legs. He knew it was always difficult for him to just lie back and enjoy what was being done to him. Prussia had no real preference for positions, but he always wanted to be active.

He slightly fastened the movements of his hands and wrapped his fingers around Prussia's length, sliding them up and down. It was easier now that he was becoming slick due to his arousal. One rough caress of his thumb over the glans of his member was enough to make his breath hitch. Romano repeated the motion, slower, and enjoyed the frustrated growl that Prussia directed at him.

“I'm so going to get you for this, you little – nnnhhn!”

Prussia's hips jerked as Romano suddenly tightened his hold and stroked down in a swift movement. He struggled to arch into his touch, but Romano adjusted his position on his thighs to make sure he wasn't getting anywhere and pushed down on his stomach to keep him still. The action drew a groan from Prussia's throat, and Romano stopped what he was doing for a moment. He spent a moment listening to Prussia's breathing – it was finally ragged, and in the near darkness of the shed it sounded so much more satisfying than ever before.

He leaned over the other's form, careful to let Prussia's erection press against the fabric of his shirt with as much friction as possible, and kissed him, sloppily this time because it was difficult to aim without feeling his way around first. Prussia was eager to respond to it, and Romano was sure the sigh that he let out was one of relief at being able to do something with his hands again. They held onto his back so tight it was almost painful.

“As long as you're clinging onto me like that, I can't go back to finish what I started,” Romano muttered between kisses. He moaned against Prussia's mouth as the other lifted up his knee to rub it against his crotch – he wasn't yet hard, but listening to Prussia's breathing and groans in the dark had put him on the way there.

“Maybe, but you're a fool if you think I'm just going to take it lying down like this!”

“Yeah, right. How many times have I turned you into a blubbering mess already?”

“Not as many as I've done it to you!”

Romano wanted to snort, but the sound got stuck in his throat when Prussia pulled him down into another kiss and – goddammit, he was wriggling under him just the way that made his erection rub against his member, and Romano wanted nothing more than to be rid of their shorts because it would have felt so much more amazing without the layers of fabric between them. At least the shorts were loose enough to allow for them to be hard without too much discomfort.

“Fuck you,” he snarled, making Prussia laugh.

“Go ahead!”

“No, not here. And... and stop moving, dammit!”

“So, you don't like your own tricks being used against you, huh?”

Romano's response was wrenching himself free of Prussia's hold and sliding back down along his body, but he wasn't quite fast enough to capture Prussia's legs again. The other sat up, and they were now facing each other, their rapid breathing filling the shed. A moment later, when he had grabbed Prussia's length once more and was kissing him, Romano decided that he preferred this position because it let him do more than one thing at the same time.

Prussia's hands tried to reach for his crotch to return the favour, but Romano pushed them away. As tempting as it was, he wasn't about to let him stroke him. There was time for that later. What he wanted now was to turn Prussia into a needy mess, partly because he knew that if he blew his mind now, he would spend the rest of the day thinking up ways to be an amazing boyfriend instead of feeling down about the football match.

He increased the speed of his hand and applied more pressure, but he was careful not to make it as intense and Prussia would have liked. It didn't take long before the other was straining against him to get more, but whenever he arched close, Romano slowed down, forcing him to stay put.

“Go to hell,” Prussia breathed against his neck, his breath making Romano shiver.

Romano's response was to stop entirely, which caused Prussia to release a groan of frustration and try to thrust into his hand. He lifted one hand up to Romano's hair and moved the other down his back, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed against one another. Romano returned to stroking Prussia's hard length with more pressure and speed then before, and the surprise of the sensations made the other jump and let out a sound that resembled both a gasp and a yelp.

“Nnh, if you stop now... I'm going to...”

“You'll what?” Romano asked, running his thumb over the tip and teasing the slit.

But he didn't get a coherent response anymore. Every movement of his fingers rewarded him with a strangled moan or gasp from Prussia. In the dark, the sounds seemed even more intense than usual, and Romano wished he could have seen expression on Prussia's face as he was working him towards his climax.

Then, he felt Prussia's whole body tighten against him, and a moment later, he was shooting into his hand. The last moan that left him was low and satisfied. Romano removed his hand and was about to retreat, but the attempt was stopped when Prussia pulled him back into a messy kiss.

“I should kick your ass for putting me through that,” Prussia muttered.

“And here I thought you liked it,” Romano replied, illustrating his words by wiping his hand on Prussia's shorts.

“You know what I mean. But don't worry. I always have the best revenge. And the first part is that I'm not going to get you off right now. You have to wait until we hit the shower. Or maybe after that. Depends on my mood.”

“Ass,” Romano said, but he didn't mind. He knew Prussia's was usually patient and good at biding his time – even if he tended to complain loudly and to everyone if he had to wait for something – except when it came to the people he cared about. Whether it was a birthday present, giving Germany a day off or surprising his boyfriend with steamy sex, he just couldn't keep it a secret and rushed to deliver long before he was supposed to. Romano might have otherwise been irritated, but it filled him with a pleasant warmth to know that Prussia was so eager to please him.

He shifted to get into a position that would allow him to stand up.

“You going to stay on the floor the rest of the day?” he asked when Prussia didn't move.

“I'm enjoying my post-sex euphoria. Come back and cuddle with me.”

“Not on the floor.”

“You had no problem jerking me off here.”

“That doesn't mean I'll do anything there. Besides, I'm thirsty, and you still owe me that ice cream you promised.”

It took some convincing to get Prussia to stand up, and by the time Romano finally managed to drag him on his feet and shove him out the door, he had decided that he damn well deserved early dinner to go with the ice cream.


End file.
